


Every You, Every Me

by sanyumi



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Cheating, Feelings, Fluff, Frottage, Light Dirty Talk, Loud Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, all the sex basically, i got you covered, oliver sings at one point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanyumi/pseuds/sanyumi
Summary: A collection of smut-shots. That's all.





	1. Loud

**Author's Note:**

> I reblogged a sexy prompt list on tumblr and got an overwhelming response, and I plan on filling all of them. So, alongside my tumblr, I'll also be posting them here as well(because smut is difficult to write, and I get weirdly proud each time I manage to pull it off). Each chapter will be a different prompt, none of them are related. Enjoy the sexy times! ;)

Connor was never ashamed to admit how much he loved sex. There was nothing more fun, more _satisfying_ than being completely surrounded by another man, being filled and stretched beyond his limits, or burying himself deep and tight, feeling every movement along his engorged cock.

And while he was on top, Connor liked being silent. He enjoyed listening, hearing his partner come undone and voicing their pleasure and pain; the sounds were music to Connor’s ears, and it’s what kept him going, really turning him on. Because _he_ was the one causing those sounds. When Connor heard his name cried out in a broken moan, a fresh wave of arousal coursed through his body, making him act on pure, carnal urges and fucking his partner with renewed vigor.

While he was on bottom, however, Connor couldn’t keep his voice in even if he wanted to. Being dominated and manhandled wasn’t something he often allowed, so when it did happen, sex was a whole new experience. And the man currently plowing him into the wall was making Connor feel a whole lot more than sexual bliss.

“Oliver, oh, _fuck_ ,” Connor whined, his bare back burning as he slipped up and down the wall, legs tightly wound around hips that wouldn’t quit.

The man Connor had approached in the bar wasn’t his usual type, that being men like himself: smooth, confident and handsome. Not that Oliver wasn’t handsome… he was cute. Very cute, for a 30-something year old. Oliver wasn’t smooth or confident though, his cheeks noticeably coloring as Connor introduced himself, stammering out his own name and chuckling nervously, his smile wide and unguarded.

It was the smile that pulled Connor in, convincing himself to buy the guy a drink. But it was listening to him laugh and talk that made Connor suggest going back to his place.

He didn’t know why, but Oliver had reeled him in faster than any other man he’d propositioned. And it wasn’t with dirty words or whispered promises, but something else… maybe the way Oliver kissed him, the way he undressed him and instantly had Connor gasping for air as he fondled him through his boxer briefs.

“Say my name again,” Oliver commanded roughly, his lips brushing his ear before giving it a bite. Connor groaned as Oliver kissed down his neck, slowing his pace.

Connor’s hands gripped Oliver’s sweat soaked arms tightly, feeling them shake from the strain of holding Connor up. It was invigorating, pressed against the wall and feeling Oliver’s muscles work to keep him there, while still managing to thrust into him at _just the right angle_ , pulling the most obscene noises from Connor’s mouth.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Connor complied, gasping, and was rewarded with an open mouth kiss, Oliver’s tongue thrusting past his lips just as his hips snapped up again.

“ _Shit_ ,” Connor cried against Oliver’s mouth, his face screwing up as Oliver continued to strike his prostate. “Right there, don’t stop.”

Oliver hefted Connor up a little higher and drove in deeper, forcing a strangled groan from Connor’s throat, his toes curling.

“Like that?” Oliver’s voice was husky, his breath hot against Connor’s lips.

“Fuck, yes.”

Connor’s head fell, thunking against the wall and his back arching.

“God, you’re so hot,” Oliver moaned, a hand moving to cradle the back of Connor’s head.

Connor didn’t have time to think about the sympathetic gesture before Oliver muttered a, “hang on,” and spun Connor around, making him emit an unmanly squeak as he left the wall, Oliver’s penis still buried deep inside him, and thrown down into the bed.

The impact disconnected them, forcing a dissatisfied grunt from Connor, Oliver laughing lightly at that. His head angled up, above Connor’s head, and he smirked, advancing over Connor.

Connor scooted back playfully, even though his cock was still achingly hard. Oliver followed, bridging himself over Connor, his smirk never leaving.

“You left your window open,” he said casually.

A breeze blew in at the moment, driving the observation home and causing a chill to run down Connor’s spine.

“So?” Connor cocked an eyebrow, reaching a hand up and yanking Oliver down by the back of his neck for a bruising kiss, hoping to get back to business.

Connor could feel Oliver’s grin against his lips as he indulged him, kissing back, lowering his body against Connor’s teasingly. Connor bucked his hips up, gasping as their cocks brushed together.

Oliver backed up, ignoring Connor’s disapproving whine.

“Get on you knees,” he whispered, eyes dancing.

A rush of heat ran through Connor’s body, settling in his lower stomach.

“What was that?” He asked playfully.

“You heard me, on your knees,” Oliver gave Connor’s thigh a light slap.

Connor obeyed, turning around and assuming the position, staring ahead out the wide open window. The cool spring air flitted in once more, filling Connor’s nose with combination of car exhaust and early morning dew. The buildings ahead lighting up the night sky like stars, little squares that climbed up the darkness in rows. It was pretty, a nice view while he felt Oliver’s presence close in on him again.

Oliver’s groin slotted against Connor’s ass, his hands trailing up his thighs to rest on Connor’s hips, leaning over and kissing up his back. Connor’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the touches.

“You should really invest in curtains,” Oliver spoke in Connor’s ear.

“I have other priorities,” Connor replied, turning his head and letting his lips be captured in a kiss, soft and slow, at least that’s how it started.

Connor pushed back with more aggression, a hand moving to grip the back of Oliver’s head, fingers threading into his hair and encouraging him to press harder. Oliver’s kisses left him breathless, even when it wasn’t rough like this. Just from their first kiss, stumbling through Connor’s front door, Connor knew he was fucked.

Connor remembered to just under and hour ago, when Oliver pushed him back against the wall of his living room. Oliver had kissed like a lover, slow and passionate, building up a momentum until Connor was shaking and gasping for breath. The intimacy should’ve scared Connor, but instead he felt his inhibitions slipping away, completely giving in to Oliver’s lips and tongue and teeth. He’d forgot how fun kissing could be, especially with the way Oliver kissed, winding Connor up and hardening his cock to full mast within minutes.

And then, before their clothes were even off, Oliver had seized Connor’s ass, kneading roughly and groaning against his mouth.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, everyone in this building’s gonna wake up.”

The promise had rang in Connor’s ears, forcing his head back to consider Oliver, wondering where the hell that authority came from. What he saw made him positively smirk. Oliver was far gone, his eyes clouded over and lips parted. Who knew the shy, clumsy guy at the bar would let himself succumb to his raw needs.

Connor must’ve been taking too long to appreciate Oliver’s face; in a moment Oliver blinked, suddenly looking unsure. His lips parted with an, “Um…” but Connor shut him up right away, kissing him hard. He liked where this was going, Oliver was surprising him at every turn, and he was eager to make Oliver live up to that promise.

After a brief make out session that left them both breathless, Connor took Oliver through his pants, relishing in the moan that that evoked and licked his lips. “Make it everyone in Philly.”

Connor hadn’t drank much at the bar, but in this moment, on all fours, the bed rocking unsteadily beneath him with Oliver relentlessly fucking his ass, his head spun with intoxication.

“More! Oh, _fuck,_ Oliver,” Connor gasped, his jaw hanging open and his eyes screwed shut. His arms shook, fingers tangled in the sheets desperately as he pushed back, trying to meet every thrust.

The intensity drove him crazy. Oliver slammed into his prostate over and over, stammering out words of praise mingled with curses, Connor drank it all in, the gasps and cries echoing his own. Everything was sweat and heat and tension, racing to the climax…

Then Oliver slowed, and Connor nearly sobbed with the cut off, shouting out a “ _Uhn_ ,” noise as Oliver grasped the base of his cock hard, stopping any orgasm that might have slipped out.

“What the fuck–” Connor gasped, his brain gone and replaced with one thing, one urge that he so desperately needed right now.

Oliver leaned over so his chest pressed against Connor’s back, wet and slick and absolutely tantalizing in the way they slipped together.

“I need you screaming, Connor,” he spoke in his ear, low and rough and strained. Oliver’s entire body was shaking, Connor noticed, resisting the urge to move. Connor moved back impatiently and a choked cry came from Oliver, clamping his teeth over Connor’s shoulder for that move.

“ _Hah_ ,” Connor gasped, trembling under the sensations. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t make himself coherent even if he tried. Oliver was too good at this; Connor wondered just who the hell he brought home with him, because this surely wasn’t what he expected.

And he loved it.

“Oliver,” Connor tried, his voice intending to be threatening, but it sounded like a plea.

“What do you want, Connor?” As he spoke Oliver licked a stripe up Connor’s shoulder to his ear, nibbling on the lobe and nuzzling his nose through thick, dark hair.

Connor turned his head so their noses brushed. “You are the worst–”

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” Oliver teased, his fingers loosening it’s hold on Connor’s member.

Connor tried rocking back again, and Oliver allowed it, pushing forward against his ass and losing himself in the pleasure, his forehead resting on Connor’s shoulder.

“Fuck me, now,” Connor demanded, he felt Oliver’s smile against his skin.

Oliver slipped out, agonizingly slow and then _easing_ back in. Connor was about to lose his damn mind. Never had anyone fucked him so ruthlessly, toyed and flirted mid fuck, only to teasingly slow down. It was beyond frustrating and at the same time so _damn good_ , taking time with a complete stranger, unknowingly discovering a chemistry, a synchronization.

Connor tried to rut backwards again but two strong hands on his hips stuttered his movement. And Oliver was still keeping the pace slow.

Connor had to swallow before speaking, afraid he’d cry out. “What the hell are you doing back there?” He twisted his neck around yet again, sending a glare up at his partner, but the anger he needed wasn’t there. Connor was sure he looked a damn mess.

“Scream louder and I’ll fuck harder,” Oliver stated simply.

With a huff, Connor collapsed onto his elbows, lifting his leg and spinning around so he was on his back. The baffled look on Oliver’s face was enough to break through the sex haze and make Connor grin smugly, wrapping his legs around Oliver and bringing him back in to the hilt.

Oliver moaned deliciously, his eyes slipping shut. “Have I told you yet how good you feel?”

“No, I thought it was understood,” Connor panted, his grin sharpening. He reached up, taking Oliver’s shoulders. “You gonna fuck me or what?”

“Are you going to scream for me?”

Connor lifted his hips off the bed, thrusting up groaning as Oliver did. “We’ll see who does the screaming.”

Connor knew he couldn’t keep quiet though, not with Oliver starting up again like they hadn’t stopped, rubbing past Connor’s sweet spot every time. It was ecstasy. Connor couldn’t remember lasting this long, not that he was trying to remember; his mind was currently filled with other, better thoughts.

Connor’s jaw fell open and without warning he cried out, his fingers faltering on Oliver’s shoulders after a particularly hard thrust, holding onto his biceps instead.

“I need more, _nng_.”

Without missing a beat Oliver pushed Connor’s thighs forward, causing the latter’s eyes to fly open. Oliver nearly bent him in half, advancing over him and encouraging Connor to rest his legs over Oliver’s shoulders as he pushed himself further inside Connor, pounding into his prostate hard and rough and _God yes_ , this is what Connor wanted. To be _taken,_ to be filled and fucked and stimulated beyond his limits.

Connor cursed loudly, throwing his head back and _screaming._ Oliver’s thrusts were hard and powerful, so _deep_ that Connor swore he saw stars.

“Holy shit… Oliver,” Connor babbled, his hands scrambling for purchase and folding his arms around Oliver’s neck, pulling them impossibly close.

Oliver breathed in Connor’s ear, sending shivers down his body. He continued crying out, hoping anyone outside at this hour could hear his voice cracking, the lewd sound of Oliver’s hips and balls slapping his ass and now another guttural cry broken from Connor’s lips as his cock touched Oliver’s stomach.

Connor pushed up, his moans becoming inarticulate, rubbing his leaking cock against Oliver’s firm stomach as he continued plowing Connor into the mattress, the bed squeaking in protest and the frame hitting the wall with each thrust.

Oliver brokenly said he was close and all Connor would do was nod, agreeing also and picking up the pace, his fingernails digging into Oliver’s back fiercely, holding on as he felt Oliver tense up, breath catching in his ear.

He was cumming, Connor felt the pulsating release inside him and that was enough to send him over the edge with a scream that broke halfway through.

“Oli- _ah_ … fu-fuck!” 

* * *

The next morning found Connor waking up alone, his throat sore and his ass feeling worse. He sleepily rolled to the other side of the bed, dirty hair flopping in his face as he reached for his phone on the end table.

A part of him hoped Oliver was still here, making coffee or using the bathroom… but Connor knew how these things worked, he was actually surprised at himself for letting Oliver stay the night.

Ignoring the small pinch of hurt in his chest, Connor’s hand clasped onto, instead of his phone, a piece of paper.

Connor shot up, the room spinning and his hips aching with the movement. He brought the note up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, reading.

_Connor,_

_I know I’m probably not supposed to leave a note but, I really did have to leave and…  I was wondering ~~if, well, you don’t have to of course,~~ it’d be nice to see you again. Do this again. I had fun, a lot of fun. Call or text me, if you want._

_Oliver_

Connor beamed, his heart racing. Under the note was a hastily scribbled number that Connor instantly put in his phone. He had a feeling Oliver would be someone he’d call back more than a few times.


	2. Connor's confliction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor cheats on Russell with Oliver. I know we don't know who this new Russell character is yet, but just let my imagination wander pls.

The door to apartment 303 slammed shut when Oliver shoved Connor against it, their lips connecting an instant later. Connor groaned as Oliver rolled his hips forward, fingers gripping the collar of Connor’s jacket roughly to pull him in.

“Who do you think you are, Connor Walsh?” Oliver snarled, biting Connor’s bottom lip, his dick twitching at the sharp gasp. His hands moved under the jacket, pushing it off Connor’s shoulders and down his arms before it hit the floor.

Connor doesn’t know what to do with his hands, for the first time nervous and unsure with Oliver. They hover in the space between them, itching to hold onto something. Oliver makes his mind up for him, taking his wrists and pining them to the wall on either side of Connor’s body, Oliver pressing his own flush against him.

“Ollie…” Connor pants, eyes slipping shut and jaw dropping as Oliver continues to grind against him, mouth latching onto his neck.

Oliver is angry and rough and it’s kind of scary… kind of worrisome. It makes Connor’s heart hurt at how hard it beats in his chest. But mostly, it’s crazy hot, the way Oliver manhandles him, frotting hard and fast against his jeans, grunting loud and erotically in his ear.

Connor can’t get enough, but he shouldn’t be doing this.

This started when Oliver found Russel and him in a bar. It was their second date and Connor could admit that he liked the guy, he was certainly good in bed, when in a flash Oliver had crossed the gap between the two of them.

It happened so fast, but Connor remembers every detail. Of how Oliver’s hand was on Russel’s shoulder, forcing him up and stepping into his space, voice low and menacing. He was saying something about “you asshole,” and “you like sleeping with committed men?”

Which threw Connor for a loop cos, he was pretty sure Oliver had told him it was over. But regardless he sat in stunned silence, watching his “ex” boyfriend act completely irrational (was he drunk?) and his current… maybe boyfriend squaring his shoulders and giving back what Oliver was throwing.

It was a little exhilarating, watching two men fight over him, but as Russel tensed up, looking to start an _actual_ fight, Connor figured that was a good time to break this up.

“Hey, hey,” he took Oliver’s arm lightly, moving to stand between them, his back to Russel. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

Oliver’s jaw was clenched tight, his eyes furious but shining, like he’d start crying or something. He shook off Connor’s hand, leaning in. “You never change,” he hissed, throwing one last glare up at Russel and turning to leave.

Connor blinked. His head swimming with the need to defend _himself_ now, and replaying what just happened in his mind.

That night he had planned to sleep over at Russel’s house, and he did, but his heart wasn’t in it. And feeling mixed up and dirty, Connor snuck out while he was sleeping, hailing a taxi and headed toward a place he’d never wanted to leave.

Connor was naked, shaking under Oliver as he prepped him, a lubed finger sliding in and out of his ass.

“This is mine,” Oliver spoke, pushing Connor’s hips up and biting at Connor’s inner thigh as he added more fingers. The nip made Connor flinch, goosebumps appearing on his skin where Oliver continued to drag his lips, biting randomly and relishing in Connor’s surprised gasps each time. Until Oliver’s head was at Connor’s weeping cock. He gave an experimental lick up the shaft as he curled his fingers, causing Connor to arch off the bed, moaning deliriously.

“Does he touch you like this?” Oliver’s hot breath surrounded Connor’s testicles. Connor whined, one of his hands landing in Oliver’s hair.

“No one touches me like you, Ollie,” Connor gasped, looking down at him. Oliver meets his gaze with a predatory smile and lowers his head once more, latching his mouth onto the skin he knows is sensitive on Connor’s inner thigh, and starts sucking.

It’s an intimate place to leave a hickey and they both know it. Connor swallows a lump of fear but doesn’t stop Oliver, watching as if in a trance while Oliver bites down, pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking harshly. Connor bites his lip, his other leg bending at the knee and falling to the side, opening himself up wider for Oliver.

After he’s created an angry red blotch on his leg, Oliver leans back, grabbing the condom and tearing it open, sliding it down his penis and slicking it up with lube afterward.

Oliver doesn’t even ask if Connor’s ready, lining himself up and meeting Connor’s eyes briefly before slowly pushing in. Connor’s arms reach out, holding onto Oliver’s shoulders and keeping eye contact, jaw slack and hissing at the sting as Oliver fills him up.

“ _Ah,_ Oliver.”

“Sorry,” Oliver pants, bringing one of Connor’s knees up and kissing it before hiking it up over his shoulder.

“Don’t be,” Connor pulls Oliver close, shifting until he’s comfortable. “You’re mad at me, c'mon, show me.”

Oliver’s face shifts, he looks torn, like he suddenly regrets this. “Con—”

“Just fuck me, Oliver,” Connor grumbles, having adjusted to Oliver’s intrusion already. “ _Fuck_ me.”

So Oliver does. It’s fast and brutal, hot and wet and they’re both stammering messes by the end of their first orgasm, riding it out slowly with every inch of their bodies touching. By round two Connor is touching Oliver everywhere, knowing he’ll need to go soon. He scrapes his nails down Oliver’s chest, holding onto his hips hard enough to bruise while he drives into Oliver.

Nothing about the affair is is tender after the first fuck. It becomes needy, passionate and hurried. They both know Connor has been here too long and the thought just angers Oliver and makes Connor nervous.

Connor wants to demand of Oliver why he can’t stop thinking about him, why he still pictures his face when he’s fucking Russel, why he pretends his fingers are Oliver’s when he jacks off in the shower.

Why he’s missed saying “I love you” to Oliver and smiling a genuine smile at Russel hurts his heart and makes him feel like a traitor. Why doing this, right now, feels so right in his heart but in his brain Connor feels conflicted and worried, scared about what will happen now.

He gets dressed with a limp, his ass hurting as well as the surrounding region, most definitely covered in bruises. Little marks of _Oliver Was Here_ he now had to hide from Russel.

Oliver follows him to the door, his underwear hanging from his hips and Connor takes a moment to appreciate the view. Not just Oliver, but the whole apartment. What used to be theirs, where they exchanged their first love confessions and ate meals together and watched dumb sitcoms.

“I don’t know what this was,” Oliver mumbles to the floor, rubbing his arms awkwardly.

Connor shakes his head. He was the one who cheated… again. Maybe he really hadn’t changed.


	3. Feelin' Groovy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy smut!

Connor felt the pull of consciousness, tearing him away from sleep. He pressed his nose further into the pillow, hoping the soft plush would lull him back into dream land. Warmth and light surrounded his head and he hazily knew the sun was streaming in through the window. Connor squeezed his eyes shut with a grunt, shifting forward to move from the sun’s lethal glare.

Something scratched his forehead, causing Connor to move further forward, rubbing his face into the offending tickler in hopes of reducing the itch. It made him sleepily realize he was nuzzling into hair.

Oliver’s hair.

Connor smiled, slowly opening his eyes, allowing his body to wake up fully. His gaze was met with the back of Oliver’s head, resting on the pillow. Connor looked down his back, bare and warm.

He shifted so his body pressed against Oliver’s, softly wrapping his arm around Oliver’s mid section and resting his face into the back of Oliver’s neck. He hummed happily, stiffing a yawn and appreciating the extra heat radiating off his boyfriend’s body.

Connor’s content smile faltered as he gasped softly; he was hard. His penis was erect and currently, accidentally, pressed against Oliver’s naked butt. He bit his bottom lip, hopelessly trying to resist the urge to move, but nothing felt as fine as Oliver’s smooth ass, soft and perky. Connor’s dick nestled in between those round cheeks, just resting there, but growing.

Connor sighed in defeat, but also in desire. His hand around Oliver’s chest flattened out, pressing his palm down to his stomach, his fingers tracing the edges of Oliver’s muscles, even if they were soft from sleep. Connor’s hand wandered back up to rest on Oliver’s hip as he rolled his hips gently, moaning quietly into Oliver’s ear. _God_ that felt good… he did it again, and again, feeling his heart rate pick up and his skin tingling.

Connor felt Oliver begin to wake up, starting with his shoulders rolling back, his back popping. Connor felt those back muscles roll against his chest and pushed a little harder, his finger’s tightening their hold on Oliver’s hips.

“Wha…” Oliver groaned, voice thick with sleep.

Connor pressed a kiss to Oliver’s neck and shoulder, his front hugging perfectly along Oliver’s back side.

“Morning, babe.”

“What time is it?” Oliver mumbled. His hand went back and grabbed Connor’s, pulling it to his chest and lacing their fingers together.

Connor had stilled his movements since Oliver regained full consciousness, even though it was downright painful to stop. “I don’t know.”

“Mm…” Oliver hummed, his body stretching out.

Connor groaned, his fingers gripping Oliver’s tightly as he pushed his ass out, accidentally grinding back into Connor’s engorged cock.

Oliver laughed softly his head turning.

“What’s going on back there?”

As a response, Connor drove his hips forward again. His dick was almost completely surrounded by Oliver’s plump ass. It was crazy how good it felt, burrowed between those soft orbs.

“Ollie,” Connor sighed, his knee hiking up, wrapping his leg around Oliver’s waist lazily and moaning deliriously.

“Hey now,” Oliver warned playfully, but his breathing had become shallow. “C'mon, it’s Saturday.”

“Exactly,” Connor licked the shell of Oliver’s ear, pressing a kiss to it afterward. Oliver’s head fell back so Connor could nose his way up Oliver’s jaw, kissing his cheek.

“Saturday is for sleeping,” Oliver clarified, albeit with a husky rasp in his voice that made Connor’s hips snap a little harder than intended, pulling a moan out of each of them.

Connor smiled in victory. “No, it’s for lazy morning sex, then shower sex, then after a quick refuel of breakfast…”

Oliver laughs. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love it,” Connor whispers into Oliver’s ear, giving it a nip after.

Oliver shifts to turn around and Connor lets him, relieving some of the pressure of his thigh on Oliver’s waist. But now that they’re face-to-face Connor almost whimpers. Oliver is hard too, and their cocks brush together in tantalizing friction

Oliver’s hands are holding onto Connor’s hips, pulling him close. Connor is about to push Oliver on his back and have his way with him, when Oliver opens his mouth… and sings.

“ _Slow down, you move too fast…_ ” Oliver’s voice was smooth as honey, soft and playful. He sang with a smile.

Connor rolls his eyes “Ollie.”

Oliver’s smile morphs into a grin. “ _You got to make the morning last…_ ”

Connor looks down, attempting to hide his smile. He’s so infatuated with Oliver that even with a boner, he can’t be mad at the silly distraction. And Oliver’s voice was heaven; he hardly sang, so each time was a blessing (and as of right now, also a curse).

So Connor’s leg around Oliver clamped down and with strength that shouldn’t be capable in the early morning, Connor pushed Oliver onto his back, advancing on him immediately. Connor huffs, smirking and grinding his hips down, their cocks hot and hard driving against one another.

Connor leans over Oliver, tapping their noses together. Oliver’s eyes slip shut, his hands fondling up Connor’s chest before taking his face in his hands. Connor’s ass sticks out before slowly sliding back in, dragging up Oliver’s thigh and then his own erection teasingly slow, making them both gasp, exchanging hot air.

Their lips brush and Connor is about to go in for a kiss, when Oliver’s lips part.

“ _Looking for fun and feeling groovy._ ”

“ _Oliver_ ,” Connor nearly shouts in frustration, his head falling into Oliver’s shoulder, but he’s giggling. “You are such a dork.”

“Yeah well,” Oliver starts, humor in his voice. “This dork is about to ravish his boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the song Oliver is singing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dz4mgJRB4yY/)


	4. When I Think About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver masturbates to Connor, who joins him later. A hint of voyeurism sprinkled in for Dee (Oliver def has a kink for being watched... I mean, it's practically canon haha)

Oliver sighed loudly as he walked into his apartment, dropping his messenger bag and lazily kicking the door closed behind him.

His jacket fluttered to the floor as he kicked his shoes off, taking sluggish steps to the bedroom and collapsing onto the bed with a satisfied groan. He let himself sink into the mattress, slipping his eyes shut, focusing on the peaceful quiet of his apartment and his muscles relaxing. The pounding headache at the base of his skull already diminishing, muted by cotton pillows.

Today had been hell. Oliver picked up someone’s shift at the office, which seemed like a good idea at the time, the 8 hours over time certainly was incentive enough to do it, but 12 hours in and Oliver thought his eyes were starting to bleed.

It was almost 11 O'clock at night and Oliver needed to be up in 6 hours for work tomorrow.

“Fuck,” Oliver muttered, pulling at his tie with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. It was nights like these, when his boss over worked him and his co-workers underappreciated him, that Oliver wished he had a man to come home to.

His mind started drifting, alone in the darkness. The hand over his face slipped down, finger tips slowly easing down his neck where he rubbed out a kink, turning his chin up and away to expose more skin and let his neck pop. The loose tie slipped from the collar of his button down, Oliver pulling it out and dropping it to the floor. He hummed as both hands now pressed down his clothed chest, imagining someone else’s hands on him, pinching his nipples through the shirt and making his breath hitch. Oliver rolled over, turning on the lamp on the end table, his hand hesitating on the wooden surface before opening the small drawer, rummaging around and pulling out a little plastic bottle.

Oliver set the bottle of lube next to him and unbuckled his belt, shuffling up to lean against the headboard, images of one man in particular flashing in his memory.

Connor Walsh, the man who just moved in next door. Oliver had stumbled into him (literally) a couple weeks ago as he was bringing boxes in from a loaded SUV. Oliver was on his way out, distracted while looking at his phone, and collided with Connor in the lobby. He had a box in front of him and didn’t see Oliver heading straight towards him. After Oliver stammered out an apology, grabbing the box the man was holding as it began to fall, they both sighed in relief, glad nothing (and no one) fell.

“Sorry,” the man grunted. He lowered the box and Oliver came face-to-face with a gorgeous crooked smile. “Should’ve looked where I was going.”

Oliver’s jaw was on the floor, and he was openly staring.

“Uh, no. That’s… fine,” Oliver mumbled, his arms still around the box.

That toothy smile faltered before stretching impossibly wide. “You can let go now, unless you want to carry this to my apartment for me?”

Oliver had blushed, releasing his hold on the box that the man obviously still had his own arms around as well.

They’d introduced themselves, Oliver ditching his date to help Connor bring in the rest of his things.

When Oliver pointed out that Connor lived right next to him, in apartment 305, Connor gave a smirk that made Oliver swallow, hard.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And they had. Developing a flirtatious relationship, but nothing concrete. Nothing that gave Oliver the clear signal to ask Connor out… not that he really wanted to; Connor wasn’t the type to date, if the numerous men he brought home with him was any indication.

Oliver pulled his pants and briefs just low enough to pull his cock out, petting it lightly as it rested at half mast against the tail end of his button-down.

Grunting, Oliver made fast work of the buttons, opening up the cotton shirt and letting it hang loosely at his sides, exposing his chest and stomach that he pressed his hand against, slipping his eyes shut.

Oliver wondered if Connor was home… he only knew Connor fucked random men because his bedroom was right next to Oliver’s. He’d hear muffled moans and voices all the time. At first it annoyed Oliver, especially when it was an obnoxious, high-pitched whine and cursing.

But sometimes Oliver would hear Connor’s voice… he was always so _loud_ and so passionate. His moans sounded like music and when he’d cry out from orgasm, it went straight to Oliver’s dick. Oh, how desperately he ached to be the one causing Connor to scream like that. To listen to his praise brokenly whispered in Oliver’s ear while he rammed into him.

Oliver gasped as he continued touching himself, his hips lifting off the bed, thrusting gently into his hand while the other one continued exploring his front. He teased his nipples, imagining Connor above him with that ridiculously attractive smirk, leaning forward and kissing down his neck.

It wasn’t right, imagining his hot neighbor like this… in Oliver’s bed, in his shower, thrusting into his fist with the image of those smirking lips wrapped around his cock. Oliver’d bet Connor would be great at giving head, that tongue which often left Oliver a stammering, red mess with a simple one-liner, was meant for licking up his balls and shaft, carefully dipping into the slit before surrounding it in wet heat.

Oliver groaned, his lips parting as his thumb grazed the head of his cock. There was silence past the wall of his bedroom, so Oliver figured Connor wasn’t home, letting himself be vocal when normally he’d have to bite his lip to keep quiet.

He grabbed the lube, popping the cap and letting a bit drizzle onto his fingers before replacing his hand over his hardening member, slicking it up and grabbing his balls. His breath hitched as he massaged them, his hand soon descending lower, fingers dancing over the perineum and his hole.

Oliver’s brows relaxed, tilting his head back against the pillows with a sigh, circling his tight entrance tantalizingly, torturing himself as he brought his hands back, pressing harder now against the skin between his hole and balls.

“ _Ah_ …” Oliver’s dick twitched, seeking friction, heat, Connor.

Oliver shuffled further up, almost in a sitting position and pulled his pants and underwear off completely. He poured more lube over his fingers, rubbing them together before replacing them over his hole, teasing the ring before easing one in.

Oliver’s head hit the wall with a light _thunk_ , lifting his ass slightly as he fucked his finger, soon adding a second. His free hand came down to take hold of himself, pumping slowly, patiently, keeping the same pace as his fingers.

God, Oliver needed this. But it wasn’t enough. It’d been so long since he’d been with someone, since he’d had a dick in his ass. He needed _more_ , to be filled and stretched open… Oliver wondered how big Connor was.

He added a third finger, twisting his fingers until he found his sweet spot, whimpering loudly.

“ _Connor_ … fuck,” Oliver breathed. These were Connor’s hands on him, his fingers inside him, preparing him for more, scissoring his fingers and purposely avoiding his prostate for the time being. He’d imagine Connor would be a teasing fuck, grinning smugly and making Oliver beg for it.

_You like my fingers in your wet hole, huh? Bet you’d cum just like this._

“Yeah,” Oliver moaned aloud, slipping his fingers in and out with building momentum, occasionally brushing that bundle of nerves, his back arching each time.

_But you want my cock, don’t you? Want me to fuck your pretty little ass. Is that what you want?_

Oliver’s grip around his penis tightened, pushing his hand all the way down to his balls, delaying his orgasm before sliding back up to the head, over and over, faster and faster.

He panted roughly from his open mouth, eyes shut. He could almost see Connor above him, inches away. His hair would be messy, ungelled and hanging freely around his face.

_Say what you want, Oliver._

“Fuck…” Oliver hissed, bending his knees as his toes curled. He could feel it, his release building up. “Fuck me.”

A low groan, that most definitely didn’t come from his mouth, echoed in Oliver’s ears. He ceased abruptly, eyes flying open and his skin going numb with fear.

Then he heard it again, right behind his head. Oliver turned to press his cheek to the wall, holding his breath and listening.

Silence… maybe Oliver just imagined it.

But then he heard shuffling, and the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking in protest and suddenly the other voice was closer than before.

“ _Oliver…”_

Oliver’s eyes blew wide, his heart hammering in his chest.

“C-Connor?”

A sigh and chuckle followed. Oliver licked his lips, the hand still around his cock giving it an experimental stroke, glad he was still hard.

“ _Why’d you stop?”_

Oliver blinked. He looked down at himself, nearly naked, breathing hard, his penis wet with lube and pre-cum.

He swallowed. “Are you… doing this too?”

Another chuckle. “ _I’m certainly not sitting still while you make those sexy noises_.”

Oliver felt heat climb from his neck to the tips of his ears.

His hand around his shaft went back to work, silently. Oliver left his cheek pressed to the wall, listening intently.

“ _Is this weird?_ ”

Oliver smiled. “Kind of, but I like it,” he answered truthfully, willing his heart rate to go back down and focus again on his pleasure.

“ _You thinking about me in there?_ ” Oliver could almost see that saucy smile, those devilish eyes narrowing in on him.

“All the time,” Oliver whispered, closing his eyes once more and getting back to work, twisting his fist around as he slowly pumped himself.

“ _Fuck, Ollie. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to fuck you_.”

Oliver moaned, the words filling his mind and traveling straight to his weeping cock.

“ _How many fingers you got in?_ ” Connor grunted. Oliver pictured him on his own bed, naked, on his knees with one hand on his dick, the other pressed against the wall.

“Three.” Said fingers were easily sliding in and out now. He was about to add a fourth when he heard Connor groan, something hitting the wall.

“ _Better add another_.”

Oliver did just that, driving straight for his prostate now and whimpering at how full he felt.

“That big, huh?” Oliver gasped, his fist gripping roughly, tugging his member with more force, more pressure.

“ _Just wanna make sure you’re prepared. God I’d love to see you right now… see how messed up you are for me, your lips and your chest and-_ unn _\- your cock._ ” Oliver heard Connor’s voice break, listened as he breathed harshly with little gasps in between. It was so hot, Oliver’d kill to see Connor’s face right now.

Oliver’s hips began snapping up, fucking his fist and fingers.

“Connor,” he nearly sobbed, his orgasm building back up again stronger than before. “I’m gonna cum.”

“ _Yeah baby, cum for me,_ ” Connor spoke hotly, a yearning in his tone.

Oliver’s lips parted as he came, letting go and crying out, feeling warmth hit his stomach and hand. Shit, it was so good, so perfect, Oliver was seeing white.

Then Connor let out a long, tantalizing groan that made Oliver’s skin prickle with delight.

“ _Fuck… Oliver,_ ” Connor was panting, he sounded closer than before, like his lips were brushing the wall. “ _That was so hot._ ”

Oliver cracked a grin at that, looking down at himself again and taking in the white stripes painted along his abdomen.

“Hmm,” Oliver hummed, biting his lips and considering the situation, the euphoria and sex coursing through his veins.

“Get over here. The door is unlocked.”

And Connor came.


End file.
